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Fool
I couldn't help but smile. I could hear the screams of my ultimate prize as she continued to try to escape from the chains that bound her to the chair. Constant yelping for her parents, pleas of desperation and vexation—I expected such. Abducting her wasn't the best part—this was. I wish I could tell her that she would never see the light of day again, but I found not a satisfactorily outcome for that. Removing myself from the slits of the blinds to which I peeked through from my room, I opened the door and entered hers. Her cries stopped in an instant. I sensed a maelstrom of emotions from her, all wanting to escape from that thick shell she kept over her. For a 15-year-old, my new salvation knew how to keep herself calm and steady. I began to feel her mind's mechanism whirring alive, submerged in calculations. "Welcome," I said, "to my world." The statement wasn't anything special. I had prepared it for this very occasion. I wasn't the perfect, ideal man, but the least I could do to prolong her sanity was to appear professional, at least. Right away, she made her first mistake. She frowned, then decided it was too risky and put on a poker face instead. "Sir, please do not harm me." "I will not hurt you," I said. I made my way in front of her and crossed my arms. The girl still had her school uniform on. She had a youthful, pale face, long, blond hair, and a generally petite framework. "You are simply here because I have a couple of things that I'd like to do to you and your body." "Doesn't sound very reassuring." It was barely noticeable—perhaps not distinguishable at all for a common man—but her voice shook a little. "You're here to violate me?" I pursed my lips. "I'm a man of high moral value. Rape is beyond me, especially for juveniles." "High moral value?" The girl shifted her gaze to the wall to her right. "You can start removing these chains, then." "And then you'll run off with my gun." On cue, I slid my revolver out of my belt and aimed it at her head. "Since I have high moral value, I will take off your chains. I don't think I have to tell you what will happen if you try to do things against me. Understood?" "Not understood," the girl snapped. "You've taken me hostage, so obviously, you need me. You wouldn't kill me." At that point, I realized that the girl was an interesting company. I had anticipated cleverness and criticality, but this young one definitely knew her way with words. I could only dream of telling her what would happen next just to see her smart act crumble, but I chose not to, for that would ruin the fun, and I would need to get another prize again. "Perhaps you're right," I said. I slid the revolver back to my belt. "Just please do not do anything stupid as I remove your chains." The next few seconds followed with me waiting for another response, but the girl kept silent. Slowly, I knelt beside her and began working my way through her chains. It only took a single key to take out the lock, and then it was mainly just untying everything. It was an easy task. Soon, the girl was freed of her restrictions, and in return, she obtained the capability of taking me down or running away out of my reach. But she did neither. "Sir, I've joined a lot of charity works." This I did not expect. "Okay." "Mostly ones funded by my school," she continued. She kept her eyes glued at the floor. "Through those, I've experienced conversing with a lot of people, and in return, it's easy for me to understand them. I believe that all people have problems, even those born right out of rich families. As Shakespeare had said, the world is a theater. In plays, there's always conflict. Conflict fuels our lives." "Why are you telling me all this?" She faced me with her blue eyes, a stern look on her face. "Sir, whatever you kidnapped me for, I believe it's for some cause. I know you have a problem troubling you, and if I have to be involved in it for whatever reason just to fix it, then I will help." I remained silent. Digesting her words wasn't easy. I was taken aback—admittedly. With all the atrocities in the world, I couldn't help but feel astounded by the fact that such innocence still existed. I couldn't kill such an interesting person. Right there, I knew I needed to get another toy. The world needed this girl. "Girl, you amaze me with your words," I said after recovering. "Tell me: If I let you go, will you report me to the police?" She instantly shook her head. "Sir, putting people with deep troubles in jail won't help them. If you let me go, I'll go home and tell my parents I'd like to help you." "Is that so?" "That is so!" "Okay," I replied. "Let me take you to the entrance, then." The trip to outside was quick. The girl praised the paintings I had on my walls, and she told me she would have dinner with me once she comes back after noticing I lived alone. As we arrived at the porch with the door open behind us, she took a gander around her surroundings. Her face lighted up as she recognized the place. "Oh, this is actually walking distance from my home!" "Oh, really?" I asked, scratching my head. "That's good. I trust that you can walk by yourself?" "Of course! By the way," she faced me, "can you give me a pen and paper? I'd really like to help you. I'll write my contact details down so you can get ahold of me anytime." Spinning around, I went back inside, tore a small piece of paper from a full sheet, got my pen, and went out. I handed everything to her, and she began writing. "Please do not forget to contact me as soon as possible," she said as she wrote frantically. "I would really like to help you with whatever your problem is." I grinned. "Girl, I'd just like to commend you for your humanity. The world needs more people like you." She nodded, shoving the pen and paper back to my hands. "Bye." I was forced to squint as I read her handwriting. There was nothing wrong about her penmanship—she just wrote too small. Pulling the paper closer to my face, I read her contact details out loud. "I won't help you. Will call the police. Thanks for letting me out. You're a fool." As I stared up, I saw the rascal sprinting as fast as she could, turning a sharp right into an alley before vanishing from sight. I could hear her laughter—an inhumane crackling that tore my head like lightning. Infuriated, I crumpled the paper into a ball and let it drop from my hands. I wanted to tear her from inside—to squash her bones, but I knew I needed to keep it cool, so I did. Without a sound, I made my way back inside and grabbed the cleaver from the rack. The look on her face when she realized how close her home was entertaining. She was a clever being, but she underestimated me. I knew I was the smarter one, and now I could demonstrate it with blood and knives. Of course I knew where she lived. It was necessary for the dessert. Pushing my way through the door beside her room, I flicked the light switch to my side and savored the two, hanging beings in front of me. They opened their eyes as they began to wiggle free to no avail. Their mouths were gagged, so the words they spouted turned out nonsensical. They turned more violent as I raised my cleaver. I wondered what I would need to give up just to see how she would respond finding out that both of her parents were abducted as well. "Who's the fool now?" I endlessly sang, "Not me," as I tore down my dinner. Category:Mental Illness